


The Mortalest of Enemies

by MykEsprit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, nemeses - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit
Summary: Thor and the Avengers came across a new adversary, which has Loki feeling a little jealous.





	The Mortalest of Enemies

Sunlight was less intense on Midgard, but Loki preferred it that way. It didn’t shine down with eye-blinding radiance, magnified by the gilded spires that made up the Asgardian skyline _—_ _had_ made up the skyline.

From time to time, he still had trouble referring to Asgard in the past tense. A strange thing, really, as he never _truly_ felt at home there.

Midgard, on the other hand...the first time he stepped foot on this world, there was an easing of his shoulders like a great weight had been lifted. Gone was the pressure of being Odin’s disappointing son and the monumental presence of Thor that always thrust him in the shadows. The knowledge that he was Jotunheim’s best weapon for vengeance _—_ that, too, had disappeared.

It was lucky for him that his brother felt a similar connection to this world and had brought their people here.

* * *

 

_“Oklahoma!” Thor proclaimed, throwing his arms out wide._

_Loki and the Asgardian survivors glanced around, the flat, level land unbroken to the distant horizon. Slowly, they turned their blank stares towards their perpetually optimistic leader._

_“Oke-la-_ home _-a.” Thor looked more pleased with himself with each enunciated syllable. “Get it?”_

* * *

 

For all his insufferable cheerfulness, Thor had made a good decision. Midgard _was_ home. It greeted the Asgardian refugees with open arms, and, once he was forgiven for that time he tried to enslave humanity, Loki was welcomed, too.

And as one of its superpowered inhabitants, Loki paid their generosity back by righting wrongs, defending the innocent, standing up for justice, and all that sanctimonious drivel, ad nauseam.

As a solo hero, of course; none of that team spirit in which his brother reveled.

The same brother who was straggling into the sitting room at sunrise, his lips pulled up into an exhausted but satisfied smile.

Loki shifted his gaze from the pink and orange sky to fix the newcomer a knowing look. “The God of Thunder has returned from a successful conquest, I take it?”

Thor threw himself to the nearest lounge, his muscled calves extending past the curved armrest. “An invigorating conquest, brother. One that got the heart racing and filled each limb with vigor. But, no, not a successful one.” He folded his hands behind his head. “Not yet.”

Thor’s expression was caught between “dreamy” and “calculating,” and it led Loki’s mind down a familiar path, one that led to a certain witch that often trapped him in a similar state of duality. Loki asked, “Who is this conquest? A worthy woman? Or a worthy opponent?”

“Both.” Thor sighed heavily.

“The warrior type? You usually like the warrior type,” Loki reflected, “which is why your choice of Jane Foster always confused me.”

Thor’s blue eyes narrowed. “Jane is as brave as the best warriors in the nine realms.”

Loki inclined his head. “I’ve misspoken, brother,” he said, trying his best to keep the amusement out of his tone.

Thor shook his head, wise to Loki’s antics. “The woman I encountered last night was no Jane Foster, but formidable, nonetheless. Powerful enough to take on three Avengers at once,” _—_ he crossed his arms over his broad chest _—_ ”and escape with loot in hand.”

Loki stretched his legs in front of him, basking in the image of a brute female taking on three of Earth’s mightiest heroes. “Some type of she-Hulk?”

“Not at all. About as tall as dear Jane, with hair as dark as a raven’s feathers. And brandishing a pointy stick.”

A chill coursed through Loki’s veins, turning every sinew of muscle to ice. Through clenched teeth, he asked, “A _what_?”

“A stick.” Thor shrugged. “She waved it around like what those women on the screen did last summer. You know?” He twirled his index finger in the air. “With the stick and the ribbon?”

“Rhythmic gymnastics?”

“Yeah, that. Anyway, she did that, and magic came out. Got away from us with a pop, but not before turning Rabbit into a tree and Tree into a rabbit.” Hissing, Thor jumped from the couch and hurried to the door. “Oh, that reminds me, I should really give the wizard a call before Rabbit starts to photosynthesize.” With quick thuds of his heavy boots, Thor rushed out of the room.

Loki leaned forward, planting his elbows on his thighs. A raven-haired woman with a deadly stick running amok all night…

...and he had been sitting at home like a chump?

With an irritated huff, Loki stood up from his ornate armchair. “And she didn’t even think to give me notice?” He straightened the collar of his green suit. “What happened to nemeses with manners?”

 

* * *

  


Loki helped himself to a glass of amber liquid from the cabinet as he examined the parlor. It was just as he imagined it _—_ plainly decorated, almost bare, but tastefully furnished, with every trinket on the shelf priceless.

 _And likely stolen_ , Loki mused.

“I didn’t realize the Avengers also made house calls.”  

Loki tamped down a bubble of excitement as he turned.

With an indulgent smile on her ruby lips, Pansy Parkinson strolled into the room. “How did you get through my wards?”

“When are you going to learn that your silly little party tricks are nothing compared to my magic?”

Pansy sauntered to his side, pouring herself a splash of the same liquid that still burned the back of his throat. She lifted her glass towards him in a mocking salute. “My ‘silly little party tricks’ knocked you out cold when we last met, if I remember correctly.”

“You hit me over the head with a car.”

“Yes, but I used _magic_ to levitate that car.” She raised the glass to her lips, taking a slow sip.

His eyes followed the deliberate movement, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip involuntarily. With a clarifying inhalation, he dragged his gaze from her lips.

Mirth twinkled in her dark eyes. “Why are you here, _God_ of _Mischief_?”

Heat flushed around his neck.

“Be quick about it,” she said. “I’ve had a long night, and I’m dying to have a soak.”

Loki cleared his throat. “And what, pray tell, _have_ you been doing with your night?”

“A bit of shopping.” She waved an arm dismissively. “Dinner with the usual set, breaking and entering into a SHIELD storage facility to steal a magical artifact, and then a nightcap at the Leaky. The usual Friday night shenanigans.”

“Did you happen to run into anyone during your field trip to procure this artifact?”

One shoulder gave an artful shrug. “Just the usual hobnob of incompetent lackeys. Although I did run into a couple of strange creatures on the way out. One has got to be the Whomping Willow’s genius cousin, and the other, I’m guessing, was some sort of rabid koala?” Pansy set the glass on the side table and then pressed an index finger on her chin. “They must have done magic, as well, since they animated this Grecian statue to chase me around.”

He bit back a growl. “Not a statue.”

“Are you sure? With that chiseled jawline and those massive arms? I swear, I could pick out every single tricep.”

“Not. A. Statue.” He raked a hand through his hair. “ _Thor._ ”

“Is _that_ who that was?” She clicked her tongue. “Here we all thought Jane Foster was smart, and she released _that_ back into the wild?”

Loki tapped his foot impatiently, more than eager to move past the topic of his brother’s physique. “Forgive me if I was under the wrong impression,” he hissed, “but I thought you and I were adversaries. You run around and make trouble; I chase after you to minimize the damage. Clever one-liners and a will-they-won’t-they chemistry. You know,” _—_ he folded his arms over his chest. “Like mortal enemies.”

“We are.” Pansy took half a step towards him, putting a consoling hand at his elbow. “The mortalest of enemies.”

“But I just thought we were...you know…” Despite his earlier bravado, he hung his head and mumbled, “ _Exclusive_.”

In the corner of his eye, Pansy’s jaw dropped. Her fingers clutched him tighter.

“I don’t go chasing a multitude of villains like my brother and his band of merry heroes,” Loki said quietly. “It’s just...you.” Calling on the courage buried deep inside him, he met her gaze squarely. “It’s always been you. I think about you every day. I wake up every morning imagining what mischief you might be concocting. I go to sleep every night wondering if I’ll get a chance to foil your grand plans.” He placed a hesitant hand at the side of her neck, his thumb caressing the angle of her jaw. “You, Pansy Parkinson. You’re the only villain for me.”

Gradually, her expression shifted from stunned to bashful, a softness to her smile that he found quite becoming. “I was really hoping to see you last night,” she whispered.

“Truly?”

She nodded. “When I saw your brother coming after me...as incredible as the sheer sight of him was,” _—_ he bit his tongue, letting her continue _—_ ” I was disappointed that it wasn’t you.”

His hand trailed over her shoulder and down her arm. Capturing her hand, he brought it up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss on her knuckles. “I’ll never disappoint you again.”

“So you’ll be there?” she asked, her tone a mixture of excitement and insecurity. “The next time I come up with some nefarious plot, you’ll be there to stop me?”

“I’ll show up.” Loki gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Whatever schemes you make in that gorgeous, dark mind of yours. I’ll be there, I promise.”

“Good.” With a relaxed sigh, she stepped back.

Gently, he released her hand and gave her a sharp nod. As he turned to leave, a finger tapped him on the shoulder.

“You know, there’s this amulet the British Museum is showcasing this weekend. One of legend. Priceless.” There was a sportiveness to her tone, begging him to play.

He smirked at her over his shoulder. “I’ll see to its security personally.”


End file.
